Dee called last night. She stayed one extra week in Ghost Ranch with friends of ours we met there a year ago. While I was in Ghost Ranch last week, Dee did the high ropes course. The course finale is to climb a 50-foot telephone pole, stand on it and make what is called “the leap of faith” to catch a bar that’s hanging about eight feet from the telephone pole.
Last week Dee climbed the pole, got to the top, then looked down. I could see the color drain from her face when she realized how high she was. She’d already walked across a high wire and scaled a wall and walked across a rickety ladder. But nothing had been as high as she was then, and she knew that. It took all the courage she could muster to pull herself to the top of the 50-foot telephone pole, sit on it, and then gently slide off to swing on the cable that was attached to her. I could tell she was really disappointed that she hadn’t been able to stand up. She kept saying, I shouldn’t have looked down, I shouldn’t have looked down.
When I left Ghost Ranch, Dee told me she was going to do the high ropes course again, and this time she was going to write on the goals form they fill out at the beginning that her personal goal would be to touch the bar hanging in front of the telephone pole. She figured she couldn’t grab it; she was still too small for that. But she knew she could touch it if she could just manage to stand up on the telephone pole and take the leap.
Well, I could hear in her voice the moment I answered the phone last night that she had big news for me. She did it. She climbed the pole, stood up, took the leap, and touched the bar with her fingers. She achieved her personal goal.
That’s a huge lesson for an 11-year-old to learn. To gaze with such intensity into her own mental and physical ability. To trust herself. To succeed. I’m so proud of her.
As I was reading the description of Dee on the pole, I assumed she was an adult, until I got to the end. What a brave girl she is. Learning to look toward the goal is a great lesson for a young one to learn. It’s a lesson I need to keep relearning.
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Yes, and the thing is that I grew up having a deep fear of heights. My mom was always one of those parents who freaked out if I walked on a wall or got close to the edge of a rail on a stairwell. I think it was a cultural thing, too; I’m not sure.
But I can’t watch someone skirt along a skinny ridge of a cliff, or when my husband and I used to go to Moab mountain-biking, I’d not be able to watch the cyclists get close to the edge of the slick rocks looking down on canyons. So for me, that Dee did this is monumental. Apparently I haven’t inadvertantly passed along my fear to her. Yeah!
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Dee is a special person, she always has been. I am proud of her too! Amazing what she accomplished.
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Yes. I wonder if we all think that of our children.
Last night Dee’s big adventure was camping out with the middle school kids at the youth camp. Jim keeps saying, I wonder what she’ll be like when she returns. We both understand this to be more of a formative summer in many ways.
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This description of Dee’s personal victory brought tears to my eyes. I want to be more like Dee.
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Yeah, me, too.
She did tell me today that she thought she could have reached the bar. That it was only about three feet in front of her and not eight. But overall she was still pleased that she’d made the jump.
Oh, and she loves kayaking. Flipped three times, but got herself out of it. First thing she asked Jim when she saw him tonight (her first night home in two weeks) was if he’d take her kayaking some time soon. (mimbresman, we need you!!)
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Dee sounds so brave. I think I have an idea about part of where she gets all that courage – great parents like the two of you. And the other part? The girl’s got guts. She is not tossed away.
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